Payback Time, Baby

by Sabel Simmons

He got up to take a quick shower, got dressed and sat down next to her, reaching for the salve on the bedside table. He reached for her leg and she scampered up.

  “Tristan! This is ridiculous! I will do it myself.”

  His eyes bored into hers and ignoring her, grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her back down. He draped her leg over his lap in one movement. She lay stiff under his ministrations and glared at him when he threw his t-shirt at her.

  “Come, I need to feed you before I leave.”

  “It is not necessary, I’ll he …”

  “Don’t keep me waiting.”

  She stomped into the kitchen ten minutes later just as he finished with the eggs and toast. She found it difficult to contain her excitement. At least this offers her an opportunity to leave and get to the twins without them worrying about her too much. She was only one day late.

  She bent to put the dishes in the dishwasher after they were done and he stood watching her, not trusting her relaxed stature. His mouth grim, he took her arm and looked into her eyes. Then he bent down to pick her up and swiftly carried her back upstairs and put her on the bed.

  “Tristan, really! I do have legs!”

  “Yes, you do … and that is why I have to do this. I should be back around two. Don’t miss me too much.”

  He turned around and walked out the door and winced when she screeched the moment she heard the key turn in the lock.

  “Come back here, you rat! You can’t keep me locked in here! Tristan, come back!”

  She screamed through the door, hammering against it. Of course, he ignored her again.

  She swung away from the door, livid at his audacity. How dared he lock her in the room like a criminal! The balcony! She ran and laughed gaily when she found the doors unlocked from the inside and she rushed through the moment she slid the doors open.

  “Bloody hell!”

  There was a dead drop at the front of the balcony and sharp rocks on the left. She ran to the right and cursed again. “Noooo! I have to get out of here!” Her look sharpened and a slow smile shaped her lips. “Hopefully I won’t break my neck in the process!”

  She went back inside and went searching for something to wear in his closet. She grabbed a clean t-shirt and found a pair of sweatpants. She pulled the clothes on and stood looking at herself in the mirror. Anyone seeing her would laugh their heads off. She used one of his ties to tie around her waist to keep the pants in place, but the legs were so long and would not do at all. She went through his writing desk drawer and found a pair of scissors, and made quick work of cutting the legs of the sweatpants so it ended by her ankles. She pulled the t-shirt tails together and tied a knot low on her hips.

  She rushed out to the balcony and even closed the door behind her. She hesitated only briefly to say a short prayer, then threw her legs over the balcony and carefully lowered herself to the very narrow ledge on the bottom edge of the balcony. The ledge followed all the way around the side of the house and she hoped once she went around the corner she would be able to get to the side balcony and from there look for an easier way down. The ledge was so narrow she had to move on her toes and it went extremely slow, there were not many places to hold on to … and it was on the second floor.

  It took her nearly an hour before she made it to the ground and stood gasping for breath and fisted her hands to release the cramps from holding on so tight to the bricks on her way down. She ran around to the front and screamed in frustration. The gate was automated and electrified, so too was the wall around the property. She nearly slumped in defeat, but then ran around the other side of the house and shouted in relief when she could run down all the way to the beach.

  Of course, it was not that easy. It was a totally enclosed private beach and the only way out, was by sea. She didn’t even hesitate and walked into the sea and started swimming around the rocky hill, praying the waves and current wouldn’t throw her against the sharp edges. Luckily the tide was out so she did not have to worry about that.

  She stumbled onto a beach on the other side of the hill. There were hardly any people around, but she ran to an elderly couple strolling on the beach. She was out of breath when she reached them and she had to catch her breath before she could talk.

  “Please, do you have a phone I could use? I desperately need to make a phone call.”

  The man handed her his phone and she turned away and quickly dialed Graham, the drummer of the band.

  “Where the hell are you? We have been worried sick!” he shouted at her when he recognized her voice.

  “I need you to come and fetch me … excuse me sir, where are we?” she asked the older man. She gave Graham the directions, ending with, “Please make sure you are not followed. It will take approximately an hour and a half to get here, but please hurry. Phone this number when you are near. The couple offered that I can wait at their house.”

  She handed the phone back and only relaxed when she stood under the shower, washing the salty water away. The woman left her a pair of jeans, a black cotton shirt and sneakers on the bed in the room that belonged to their daughter. She dressed quickly and even though everything was too big, it was much better than wearing Tristan’s clothes.

  They went directly to the airport, having already changed their flight arrangements. Luckily Graham carried everyone’s passports when they travelled so there was no delay in boarding the private plane and she sighed in relief when they were in the air.

  “Holy shit! Oh no, no, no, no, he is going to kill me! How long ago did this trigger go off? Anyone! How long!”

  Shirley opened a link on her computer and frowned at him. “About four hours ago.”

  “Why did nobody call me? Oh shit! Pull me that flight log and make it snappy!”

  “Relax Walt. What are you in such a tiff about?”

  “She ran again. And this time he is going to commit murder!”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “Savannah Seagers.”

  “What! How, where? Oh shit!”

  “Now you get it!”

  “Have you told him yet?”

  “I just saw the damn trigger. Why did no one act on it! Never mind … where is that damn flight log?”

  “Walt, is there a problem? You seem to be in a major tiff.”

  Walt stiffened when Tristan’s deep voice spoke behind him. He dropped his chin on his chest and prayed; everyone else quickly found something else to do in another office and left him alone with a confused Tristan. He turned to him slowly, facing him.

  “Ahum … I’m afraid I have some bad news.” He pulled the sheet from the printer and handed it to him. “She ran again.”

  He watched Tristan’s body turn to stone. He gripped the page so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes lowered to the page and fury washed over him. It was a flight log of a private plane to Los Angeles with the same passenger list as the one they used to trace Savannah to the hotel. She was listed as Hannah Seacrest and confirmed as having checked in.

  “Why did you not let me know?” His voice was deadly quiet.

  “I had a meeting down town and only just arrived when I noticed the trigger flashing.” He pulled his chair out and started typing on his computer.

  “They landed ten minutes ago.”

  He hacked into the security cameras at the LAX airport and searched until he found the plane and selected the timeframe. They watched her alight from the plane, her face drawn, noticeable even over the distance from the camera. She got into a waiting car and it sped away. Walt scanned the license plates and searched the registration on the other computer on his desk, whilst hacking into the traffic cams to keep track of the vehicle, but lost it when there was a non-operational cam system for nearly two blocks.

  “The vehicle is registered to James Wilson.”

  “Find him.”

  He turned and walked slowly to his office. How the hell did she get out? If she went over the balcony … he shuddered to even think about it.

  Damn
her. This time he would find her, even if he had to go to LA himself and turn over every bloody rock in that city.

  Tristan’s eyes were glued to the television screen. It was the early evening news two weeks later and there was a live transmission from the AT & T Stadium; NFL’s Dallas Cowboys stadium. His eyes narrowed and his hands balled into fists by his side as he listened to the reporter.

  “The air has been buzzing uncontrollably here in Texas for the past month, since Purple Pearl’s live show has been confirmed. It is the first time that the stadium has been fully booked for an event other than NFL football! Let’s talk to some of the fans that have been waiting in line since early this morning.”

  He punched Walt’s name on his cell phone and waited while the call dialed through.

  “Yeah, Boss?”

  “How is it Walt, that you are not aware that Purple Pearl is having a live show in Dallas tonight?”

  “No Shit! I have been searching LA and locally, damn I’ll check who has been running the global scan, I am …”

  “You have been slipping up Walt; this has been known for the past month! Since when do we only filter in certain areas when looking for someone? Especially someone that has been able to avoid us for years! Check who is slipping up or hiding information from us! I am still stuck in Washington and will be for another week. What are you going to do about this Walt?”

  “I’m on it, Tristan. This time she will not get away.”

  “She better not, Walt. I want a report at ten tonight and again tomorrow morning. And I warn you, if tomorrow morning’s report is in the line off, we lost her … heads will roll!”

  He ended the call and felt like throwing the cell phone against the wall.

  The project for the Government was very important and he had to deal with it personally, but he became more and more frustrated that his team was not making any breakthrough in finding Savannah.

  How the devil did they miss something this obvious? Who was not doing their job, or was someone deliberately sabotaging the search? It was not Walt, he was sure of that, but someone was not doing their job, and Walt had better find that person.

  He racked his hand through his hair, thinking back on the night she spent in his bed; a night that has been hounding him since. Just thinking about her and her wanton responses set his blood boiling and he growled as his shaft rose to full and painful erection.

  His fist met the wall and it shuddered in response. He refused to believe he lost her again. He refused that the one night was all he got from her again, and now that he had a taste of her again, he wanted it all. He wanted her, every day and every night, in his arms, at his mercy! He would draw every drop of remorse from her body; he would make her acknowledge that remorse. By God, she would acknowledge she did him wrong!

  If only he was not stuck here in Washington, but there was no way he could leave now. The discussions on the protocols for the government was at a critical stage and he had to finalize all the strategies they needed incorporated. He cursed and grabbed the TV guide and grimly noticed that the Purple Pearl show was going to be televised live tonight. Someone at Steel Security had a lot of explaining to do!

  Savannah paced back and forth in her dressing room. She could not sit down and knew she was taking a chance performing tonight. There was no way that Tristan didn’t know about this show. He would not find her easily, except to track her from the show, and yet even then … they have become so apt at escaping trackers, he might not.

  She took a swig of water and checked her disguise for when they left after the show. It was a teenage outfit with a short, spiky blond wig, sneakers, jeans and t-shirt. Nothing obvious, she would be able to blend into the crowd easily. Graham, the drummer, would be her boyfriend, dressed in a similar outfit but with a slightly scruffy brown wig. They would get on one of the busses transporting fans back to the parking garages and get on a train back to the town center, where they would slip into the hotel where the twins and Hetta were.

  The reason they always achieved success was because she never did the last song on any of her live performances. It was a song they always sang as a group so no one would know she was not amongst them anymore. One of her dancers would be disguised as her. Even they managed to elude those trying to follow them in an attempt to find her.

  For the first time in three years however, she was worried. If Tristan was here, she might just not be so lucky. She was not quite ready to return yet. She still had a few things she needed to arrange, two more shows to perform and then she would move back to New York permanently. When he locked her in his room, she realized he would not listen to reason and keep her with him no matter what. She needed the time to sort everything out here so that once she left she did so guilt free, knowing that she did the best for everyone; her and the twins included.

  They were already halfway through the first set before she started to relax. Tristan was not there, she knew that for a certainty. If he was, she would have felt it. There might be some of his team here, but he was not there himself. She gave it her all for the rest of the show and the crowd drew her in.

  Tristan’s eyes narrowed on Purple Pearl and he cursed. He grabbed his phone and dialed Walt’s number.

  “Walt, who is on the Pearl?”

  “I am. Stop worrying, I am watching her as we speak.”

  “So am I, on TV and that woman on the stage is not Savannah!”

  “What! That is impossible, Tristan! She has not left the stage for the past hour and a half!”

  “Walt, trust me. She has already left the stage! Don’t you have eyes on the dressing rooms? Go and check there!”

  “On it!”

  And the phone went dead in his ear. He slumped back in the chair he sat on, anger ripping through his body. He already discussed fast tracking the scheduled meetings with the Secretary of State. He wanted to be in LA within two days. She would not get away from him again!

  “What do you mean you are moving back to New York? Your career is here!”

  James Wilson was visibly upset and paced back and forth behind his desk. Savannah sighed. She knew this would not be easy.

  “James, you knew from the start that singing was not going to be a long term thing!”

  “I know that, but none of us ever thought you would do so well. For goodness sake Savannah, you are an International success.”

  “That can easily be replaced with someone else.”

  “If you believe that, you are fooling yourself.”

  “Think about it, James. No one knows the person behind Purple Pearl. Not what she looks like, what her normal voice sounds like … it can be done. I refuse to be held hostage by something that rose to heights I never wanted, nor have any desire to pursue further.”

  “What is the hurry? You made this decision in less than a week.”

  “James, please understand. My life, my family, everyone is there and they deserve to know the twins. The twins deserve to know them … and their father. I already made the decision four months ago, the house has been sold and everything is packed up. Hetta and the twins are leaving tomorrow morning and I’ll be following the day after.”

  He frowned. “Why not together?”

  “They are going to meet and stay with my parents for a week at first. I have something else I need to attend to when I arrive there.”

  On the flight back to New York Savannah recalled the telephone conversation she had with her parents the night before. They were in tears when they heard about the twins and cried even harder when the two rascals insisted they wanted to talk to them too. They were eager to have them visit, but could not hold back their concern about Tristan.

  “Please do not worry, Mom. That is the reason I can’t join the twins there yet. I have to go back to him and prepare him. Please do not tell anyone else, especially Leandra and David.”

  “Go back? Is that where you disappeared to the night of the party?”

  “He … sort of kidnapped me, but I managed to escape the Monday w
hen he had to go to work.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tristan was in a foul mood when he walked back into his office. Since Savannah’s live show in Dallas, there was two more, one in California and one in Washington. He attended both and they lost her both times! He has never been so frustrated the entire time he started the business. He had a 100% hit rate in finding people. Except her! He frowned when he heard Walt shouting angrily in the control room and headed that way.

  “How many times must I tell you this woman is priority? If any trigger flags you call me immediately. It doesn’t matter where I am! What bloody time did that bloody flight land?”

  Shirley scampered to her computer and ran a link-up to the airport’s arrival terminals.

  “An hour ago, and it was the same private plane as before. Only this time … she …”

  “Came in as Savannah Seagers, yes I know!”

  “What?” He swung around and found Tristan hovering in the door, murder on his face.

  “I’m sorry, Tristan. We missed the actual booking. Everyone concentrated on Hannah Seacrest and ignored the other triggers. Run the airport cams and find her. I want everyone on it! Snap to it!” He sat down and started scanning the traffic cams and facial recognition all over the city.

  Tristan stood staring out the window, his mind in shambles. The door behind him clicked closed and he sighed.

  “If it is not what I want to hear, Walt, I am not interested.”

  “Okay, when I see him, I’ll be sure to give him the message.”

  His whole body froze, searching and finding her reflection in the large floor size windows. He turned towards her slowly his hands fisted by his sides. Their eyes met and for moments neither moved. He saw her swallow and watched the pink tip of her tongue nervously wetting her lower lip.

  “Hello Tristan.”

  He just continued looking at her, his face expressionless, but his eyes flashed daggers at her.

  “How did you get out of the house?” She flinched at the unexpected question.

  “I … er … Can we please not fight?”

  “Answer me.”